Cold As Ice
by Steampunkmagic
Summary: Noir AU. A woman is dead. A diamond is missing. And Detective Clara Oswald and Officer John Smith are back on the case in 1940's New York. Sequel/Companion piece to 'The Gilded Cage' and 'The King and the Pawn'
1. Part 1: The Body

Greetings Fantastic Readers!

I got tons of requests for another Oswald and Smith story so here it is! Also I just love writing noir :)

FYI this takes place after my stories 'The Gilded Cage' and 'The Kind and the Pawn'. I would highly recommend reading those first if you haven't yet.

This will probably be in four parts, but I'm not sure yet.

I always love reviews!

Enjoy :D

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**Cold As Ice**

_~An Oswald and Smith Mystery~_

**Part 1: The Body**

The city could be beautiful at night with its lights and its skyscrapers filling famous skyline. It could also be deadly. In the cover of darkness the swindlers, the gangsters and the hoodlums came out to do all the deeds the newsies screamed about on street corners the next morning. It was when the folks with green locked their doors and the rest the rubes kept their eyes down.

And tonight was no different.

The girl was a looker, Detective Clara Oswald thought. Long black locks and perfect curves, the star of every sailor's dreams. Except for the fact she was wearing the Chicago overcoat. Clara sighed, her breath a white cloud in the chill autumn air. She stood over the body splayed out delicately on the icy pavement. A stark contrast to the garbage all around. You'd almost think the dame was sleeping if it was not for the red slash across her throat.

New York back alleys. Trash, dope, and the occasional all time loser. Jesus. Clara should have known better than to come here. Too late to complain now though, her new case was now a stone-cold murder. With trained eyes she scanned the area, taking in every detail. From the powder burns around the wound to the small white feather caught in Christina de Souza's hair.

Clara Oswald wasn't the most sought-after gumshoe in the city for nothing.

The note arrived only that morning, pushed under the door to her office. Martha, who she hired after her assistance with the Dalek fiasco, found it when they opened up shop. The handwriting was hurried yet still perfectly legible.

_'Detective Oswald,_

_ I cannot go the police, but I desperately need your help. A crime has been committed and I'm the only one who knows who is involved. Please meet me behind the Stingray Dinner at 10pm tonight._

_ Christina de Souza'_

It looked like someone knew Christina was a stool-pigeon and rubbed her out before she could finger them. They must have been following her, the poor fool. Some days it seemed like the city was full of nothing but poor fools and Clara was wasting her time trying to do anything about it. Yet she had her ticket so she kept at it anyway.

Turning up the collar of her wool coat she went to find a payphone. The coppers would be all over this one, including her fiancé Officer John Smith. John used to work undercover operations but after taking down the infamous drug lord Davros he got moved to the organized crimes division. He was simply too well known to work undercover anymore.

John said he did not mind one bit since it meant he got to see Clara more often. Especially now that she was pregnant. Clara froze when she finally spotted the grimy phone booth under a flickering street lamp. John was going to blow a fuse when he found out where she was.

He didn't want her working alone anymore, at least not while she was carrying their child. Clara understood his fears, yet it still made her mad. She could take care of herself and John knew that. Nothing proved she was in love more than the fact that Clara found his concern secretly endearing. Ridiculous, yet endearing.

She was already going over the body when NYPD's finest made their arrival. Christina died in style wearing a baby blue sweater, a dark pencil skirt with a waist belt, a wide brimmed hat. The only thing missing was her purse. Clara knew this was no coincidental heist, the goon left behind all her jewelry.

"Clara, what happened?" John appeared at her side along with a few other cops.

She explained the whole situation handing over the note. They listened with interest and her fiancé's eyes narrowed when Clara said she'd come by herself. He did not say anything however, though she would probably get an earful later. Ignoring his disapproval she went back to checking the body, turning out Christian's hat.

"I think I know where our dame worked." Clara said standing up, straightening out her red dress. She held up a business card and some cash that was stashed in the brim. "Midnight, it's that ritzy ice dealer on 47th."

John raised an eyebrow. "Diamonds? Well that _is_ something worth killing for."

* * *

Clara waited for John to get off his shift while going over everything she had on diamonds. The jewel which inspired madness in the most blue nosed of people. She inspected the one glittering on her left ring finger. The appeal was undeniable but Clara like hers for other reasons. Hearing the door click open and John walk in, she grinned.

"I know you are upset." She said before he could open his mouth. "But let's save arguing for tomorrow."

Reaching up Clara began unbuttoning his uniform. One of the swell things about his new department was John got to wear the blues. Pulling off his shirt she pressed herself against him, kissing him hard.

"You are quite persuasive." John murmured against her lips with a sigh. His placed a hand gently on the slight rounding of her belly. "I worry. I almost lost you once -"

Clara cupped his face in her palm. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Then it is a good thing I love you." He's lighthearted words broke the tension.

He smiled that crooked grin that made her heart quicken, before lifting Clara up into his arms. She laughed, carefree, as he carried her to the sofa. They curled up together in front of the fireplace. John wrapped his arms around her, holding her close while they listened to the radio. The soft jazz filled the silence.

Tomorrow she had a murder to solve. Tonight she had John.


	2. Part 2: The Lady

Greetings my friends!

Hope you are all having a great week

btw, Would anyone find it helpful if I added a 40's slang glossary to this? Just let me know :)

I always love reviews!

Enjoy :D

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**Part 2: The Lady**

They say diamonds are a girl's best friend; Christina de Souza would probably disagree. Clara suspected that the famed resident of 47th ave. was deeply involved in the girl's death. Best friend indeed.

They took a hack to the city's diamond district, since Christina had already been to her office Clara did not want to use a car so recognizable as her own. Predictability was vulnerability for any sleuth. John climbed out of the cab onto the pavement beside her. He dressed in his usual waistcoat and bowtie ensemble to avoid spooking any birds. It felt like old times again.

The diamond district of New York City was not nearly so glamorous as the name suggested. A side street near Rockefeller lined with pawn shops and gem dealers for wholesale. Citizens and mobsters stood equal here both held up by the price of ice.

Midnight stood out among the rest of them. It was no Tiffanies, but it was not far behind. Clara adjusted her jacket and patted her curls into place, preparing for battle. Appearance was as much of a weapon here as anything else. She did not expect trouble in such a public space yet it was good to know John had her back.

Stepping inside the concrete and steel bunker of a store they both glanced around for the man in charge. Based on the yelling coming from the door behind the glass counters he was somewhere in the back.

"Something's got his knickers in a twist." Said Clara raising an elegant eyebrow at her fiancé.

"I suggest we find out what." He smirked; adjusting the fedora perched rakishly on his head.

John flashed his tin at the young sheik in a pin-stripe suit behind the counter. Tight lipped, he nodded them on. She could begin to make out the shouts upon reaching the door.

"I locked it up before I left!" A woman's voice declared heatedly.

"Then how do you explain it?" The man snapped back.

"How about you ask Christina? Oh right, she never showed up today!"

Clara and John slipped into the backroom. The owners of the voices were standing beside a large open, black safe. The room was full of filing cabinets, accounting typewriters, and stacks of paperwork on every surface. It reminded her of the amount she had waiting back at her own office.

"Excuse me." John interrupted. "Who is in charge around here?"

The pair looked up at his badge in surprise. The man's intelligent eyes widened. Coupled with his unruly brown curls the expression made him appear the victim of an electric shock. Clara could sense a good natured humor underneath his blusterous façade. Unusual given his line of work.

"We have not even called it in yet." The middle aged woman said. Her tone was all business now.

Clara studied the woman with interest. Murder victims often know their attackers, so it was reasonable to look into Christina's coworkers. In a black skirt and blouse, kitten heels, and a mourning veil pillbox, she was the essence of the true professional woman. The kind of woman who shattered men's ideals and societal expectations every day, rather like Clara herself.

"Called what in yet?" She inquired.

"The Merzod Diamond." The man seemed to deflate. "I am sorry; I am getting ahead of myself. My name is Mr. Baker, I am the proprietor of this establishment and this is my assistant Miss Sarah Jane Smith."

John nodded. "I'm Officer Smith and this is Detective Oswald. Now if you could please tell us what happened?"

It is always best to let suspects or victims talk before you reveal any information. That way you can discover how much they already know. In this case the questions were: did they know Christina was dead? And if so, how did they know it? From what she had heard earlier it seemed they did not, yet Clara had to know for certain.

"Our store recently came in position of a very rare stone." Mr. Baker began. "A blue diamond commonly known as the Merzod Diamond. Every night we lock it in the safe along with the other merchandise. Yet this morning upon opening the safe we discovered it missing."

"It is insured for 100,000 dollars." Continued Sarah Jane. Worry touched her eyes. "I fence might even get more for it on the black market."

100,000 dollars? That was more dough than Clara had seen in her whole life. Who says crime doesn't pay? This rock must really be the cat's meow. Not letting any of her internal monologue show on her face Clara pulled out a photo of Christina the police got from the girl's apartment.

She held it up. "Do you know this woman?"

Mr. Baker's brow furrowed. "That is Miss de Souza one of my shop girls. She was supposed to work today but never made it in. Wait, are you saying she had something to do with this?"

"Miss de Souza's body was discovered last night near the Stingray Dinner on the Upper West Side." John said. He let that news sink in before continuing. "Do you know any reason why she would be there or do you know anyone who would want to hurt Christina?"

Mr. Baker sank down into one of his chairs running a shaking hand over his face. His skin was wax pale. "No. She was a nice girl. I-I just cannot believe this. She was a good girl."

Clara noticed Sarah Jane's lips twitch at that statement. If that did not mean something than Clara was meant for the booby hatch. She kept her gaze on the woman as they continued their standard line of questioning. They were not able to get anymore useful information out of Mr. Baker.

Before leaving, Clara turned to Sarah Jane. "If I could take another moment of your time?"

The woman nodded and followed them out of the backroom and into the main shop. She seemed to know what Clara was after by her apprehensive expression.

"You know something else. Something about Christina."

Sarah Jane glanced back towards the door.

"A few weeks ago Christina dropped her purse and a card fell out. I didn't realize it meant anything; it was for a business called the Golden Rose which I had never heard of. But when Christina saw I picked it up she took air so fast you woulda thought the store was on fire. It got me curious so I started poking around. I followed her one night and saw her go into a hotel bar. It took me awhile to figure it out but I realized Christina was _working_ the hotels, if you know what I mean."

Clara and John looked at each other in surprise.

So Miss de Souza was moonlighting as a prostitute.


	3. Part 3: Mr Family Values

Greetings My Lovelies!

So no I didn't die or get abducted by aliens or anything... I just had end of term projects and finals and no time to write. Less exciting I know...  
But to make up for it here is a longer chapter with an extra dash of smut :)

Reviews are always welcome!

Enjoy :D

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**Part 3: Mr. Family Values**

Sometimes Clara wondered what normal folks did on their Friday nights. Whatever it was it probably did not include pretending to be a tart to catch a killer. That was a specialty reserved for her. As least is was better than cooking.

Hotel Trenzalore was an enigma. Clara heard a lot about it over the years but had never known a single person who had actually been there. They supposedly made the world's best Singapore Sling and had been home to many a political scandal in their day. Sounded like most of Manhattan to her.

A bluish hazy of smoke filled the bar diffusing the lights into a warm glow. Sliding into one of the stools Clara ordered a club soda. Hopefully only the barkeep would notice her lack of alcohol. She crossed her ankles so the slit in her blue skin-tight dress showed her legs.

Honestly, Clara felt rather foolish sitting there displaying herself like bait on a hook. Eyes were already turning in her direction so it must be working. She leaned back against the bar scanning the room until her gaze found what she was looking for. A painfully young girl in a dress which showed more of her than actually existed. Was she even fifteen?

Carefully picking up her glass Clara slipped away from the bar and moved towards the girl. A confused and somewhat hostile expression lit the girl's eyes at her approach.

"I haven't seen you before." The girl said with attitude straightening her spine. Her makeup and hair style were surprisingly modern. Clara supposed it was to make her appear older.

"I am looking for someone." Clara responded with equal ice. Out of the corner of her eye she saw John a.k.a. 'The Doctor' saunter into the bar.

"Why would you think I'd know?" The girl countered archly. "Or that I'd even tell you. I don't know you from Adam."

"The name's Oswin. Any you are?"

She smiled slightly at Clara's lack of intimidation. "They call me Ace."

"Nice to meet you Ace. The dame I am looking for has similar _interests_ to us and I know she hangs here. " Clara said. "Her name's Christiana, tall, pale, dark hair?"

Ace nodded causing the rhinestones at her throat to flash. "Here she goes by 'Lady', but I haven't seen her in a few days."

"Do you know who here she hangs with?"

The girl's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I think she might be in trouble." If that was not the understatement of the century.

For a moment Ace seemed just as young as she really was. "Her main squeeze is Rassilon."

Clara nearly choked on her club soda in surprise. "The Senator?"

"Yes, I heard her tell Zoe that he was blackmailing her. Something about her having access to something. But you didn't hear it from me."

Clara tipped her head in agreement. Before slipping back across the smoky room she dropped her business card in Ace's purse. It was a risky move to expose herself but what kind of woman would she be if she did not give the kid a chance?

The Doctor, for that's who he was tonight, raised an eyebrow when Clara perched herself on the stool next to him. "Where have you been all my life, Doll?"

She grinned as he fought to keep his face serious. John acted too much like a child to be serious most of the time. Clara slid her foot up the side of his leg playfully. "Oh just learning some interesting things about our friend Miss de Souza and a certain U.S. Senator with plans on becoming President."

The Doctor rested his hand on her thigh and leaned forward. Anyone who glanced their way would see exactly what they expected to. And Clara didn't mind in the least bit, who would?

"Mister 'Family Values' Rassilon?"

"The one and only."

"I had suspicions he was in bed with the Master back in the day, but those were only suspicions." John muttered softly. "Nothing I could prove."

"Hiring a hooker does not make you a mobster." She pointed out. "If that was the case then nearly half the men in this city are in the Family."

He frowned but could not argue with her statement.

"Word is he was blackmailing our vic. You know what I am thinking?"

His expression turned skeptical. "That he figured out where she worked and forced her to steal the Mezod. That is a bit of a leap, darling."

Clara pursed her lips. "If it walks like a duck." How could John question her instincts now?

"He is a United States Senator." For once he was truly serious. "Even with the full force of the NYPD behind me I doubt I could bring him down. Honey, you are brilliant but you have no one to protect you. A man like that has the power and resources to destroy you without lifting a finger and I do not want to see that happen."

Clara's indignity crumbled at his words. John was right but that did not change the reality of the situation. "She came to me for help. I cannot turn back no matter where the evidence leads me."

He sighed. "I know you can't."

A warm feeling blossomed in her chest at his understanding.

"If, if he has the ice, Rassilon cannot unload it with the whole city on alert. He will have to wait until it cools off before even trying to fence it."

She knew he was right. Anyone smart enough to be a stone's throw away from being the leader of the free world was not going to make such a rookie mistake. Every Stoolpigeon and Peeper in the city would be on the lookout for such a hot item.

"Horsefeathers. This is not going to be easy. We need to get into his personal life, figure out where he would keep a piece that pricey."

"And just how do you suggest we do that?" John managed to avoid rolling his eyes.

Red lips curving up in a bow, Clara smirked. "Well the highbinder's going to need a new main squeeze, is he not?"

"No."

"It is not like I am actually going to have sex with the man." Clara leveled at her unreasonable fiancé. "I only need to get close enough to slip him something to loosen his tongue."

"_No._ Rassilon is dangerous."

"John, you are starting to sound like a broken record. I know how to handle myself and you will be there the whole time to back me up. If things get dicey I leave."

It was a good plan. Clara could seduce a bird in a hotel bar in nothing flat, and slipping a Mickey in his drink was cinch. She pulled John from his stool. "Now I think we should head upstairs, it is important to keep the cover."

A fevered look lighted in his eyes as they carefully traveled up her body. Like Clara said, she could seduce any bird in a hotel bar.

Now it was John's turn to smirk. "I already booked a room."

She laughed and let him lead her from the bar. This conversation was not over but it could be postponed.

* * *

John pressed her back against the door to the black and white suite. His lips found the hollow at the base of her throat.

"You are in a hurry." Clara muttered breathlessly.

"I had to watch you walk around in that dress all night." He said against her skin.

Her train of thought was cut off when his hand slid under the slit in her dress. She moaned softly arching her neck back as he touched her. No waiting sounded like an excellent idea now.

"Bed." Was the only word Clara managed to get out.

John seemed only too happy to oblige, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He kissed her hard before setting Clara down on the edge of the bed. Kneeling in front of her John paused to take a moment to simply smile and run a thumb across her cheek. She leaned into his touch, cupping his hand with her own. John made her feel special, like she was the only girl in the world. Which sounded like something from a train station romance novel but it was true nonetheless.

Unclipping her garters he began rolling down her stockings leaving a trail of little kisses as he went. She laughed at the ticklish sensation, the burning low in her belly become a flame. Once her nylons and undergarments were in an abandoned pool on the patterned carpet, Clara moved back towards the center of the bed so John could crawl above her.

"I love you." He said pushing her blue dress up around her waist.

Clara smiled and pulled him down to her. "Then prove it."

He chuckled nudging her thighs apart. "Challenge accepted."

Her fingers dug into the fabric of John's shirt as he pressed into her with a gentle roll of his hips. Clara gasped, her eyelids fluttering closed as their bodies moved in rhythm. Lips at her throat he squeezed her breast softly causing her to press her thighs tighter against his hips. John groaned moving faster until Clara lost control, her back arching as her mind whited out with pleasure. She collapsed onto the silk sheets and he quickly followed panting for breath at her neck. John pulled out and rolled off of her.

Happy and thoroughly sated Clara was already losing the battle with exhaustion. She was trying to get the energy to remove the rest of her clothing when she heard him mumble. "We should do undercover work more often."

"Or I could dress like this at home." She said while pulling off her dress and tossing it aside.

"I would not say no to that." John smiled wrapping his arms around her.

She pillowed her head on his chest. "Maybe on your birthday." Clara mumbled sleepily.


End file.
